May the Odds be Never in Your Favor
by 2019rocheca
Summary: Prim Everdeen finds a great challenge ahead of herself. She must win the Hunger Games for her loved ones back home. She will fight to survive while trying to maintain her innocence for sponsors. Is she up to the task? Or be killed in the process? Rated T for blood and violence-it's the Hunger Games. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1: Prim

**MAY THE ODDS BE NEVER IN YOUR FAVOR**

**I do not own the Hunger Games. FYI: The Quarter Quell did not involve the rescue of Katniss and start of the rebellion. Just so you all know.**

**Chapter 1**

**Prim**

I stroke Buttercup's soft fur. I sit by the fire, realizing—I've lost everyone. First, it was Dad. When he'd died in the coal mine, I felt like I had died too. But I found the strength within myself for Katniss and Mom, but Mom was too distant, too far to be reached. She looked at us as if we weren't even there.

Even now, she has those scary moments when she's gone. And when Katniss left for the Games, it was like Dad all over again. But now I am losing Katniss. She screams and lashes out at night, haunted with the scarring memories of her past. I try so hard to comfort her, but it's no use. She's as good as dead to me now, when she gets that wild look in her eyes, and you know there's no cure for her insanity.

Am I going crazy too? I must be. Gale helped me during the Games, but now he is locked away, underground, just out of reach. I'm all alone. It wasn't this way when Dad died. I had Katniss then, and that was all that mattered. But now, the only person I had was a big, fat cat named Buttercup. Hurrah.

The reaping was rapidly approaching. In three days, I was to stand and watch a death lottery. I was still scared out of my mind. All of my nightmares replayed Effie Trinket, her lips pursed, reading the piece of paper that changed my life, that drove my sister to insanity. _Thousands of names, and only one of them was mine._ What if I was called? No one could save me this time. There was no Katniss, no Gale, no loving family to support me. I had to suck it up and do it myself. It's not going to happen. The odds of them picking you again are so slim…

Then I think of how undependable my odds have been lately.

_3 DAYS LATER_

_THE REAPING_

I wear a pink dress that reaches my ankles and matching shoes. I can feel the blood rising to my cheeks, heat flowing through my body. I try to remember how to breathe. In, out. I stand with a bunch of kids my age. They all mutter to themselves. In, out. I wonder, suddenly, if this is how animals feel in a slaughterhouse when one of them, they know, is about to be killed. In, out.

Effie Trinket walks onstage with a huge, purple wig that is way too big for her head. She wears a completely purple outfit-a purple dress, purple gloves, the whole package. Her lips are pursed, as if she just ate mold. Her heels' clicking resounded throughout the square.

A tall, wooden podium lay in front of her. She taps the microphone twice, and an awful screeching sound explodes into the crowd. She clears her throat. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 76th annual Hunger Games! We had _quite_ the show two years ago, didn't we?" She looks around, listening, as if she had expected someone to laugh. "Well, then! Ladies first, as always."

A glass ball, like a fishbowl for piranhas, lay in front of her. She reaches in, spinning around and hesitating at certain moments, and I feel so nervous, it seems she is playing around with my stomach. Did I swallow a swarm of monarch butterflies, or is it just my nerves?

Finally, she pulls a slip of paper from the bowl, and reads the name, her eyes widening at the sight. Who is it? Who? Effie Trinket gestures to a nearby Peacekeeper, and they whisper an incomprehensible conversation, from which I catch the words "mistake" and "how did this happen". If curiosity killed the cat, I'd be long dead. Effie straightens her distressed expression.

"This year's female tribute is..." she takes another glance at the Peacekeeper, "Primrose Everdeen."

My mouth hangs open. _What?_ This is wrong-all wrong. This isn't possible. Is it another one of my crazy nightmares? No. I'm not that lucky. Peacekeepers move towards me, grabbing my arms, pulling me away from the crowd...

Gale stands in front of them. "Don't touch her," he hisses, with a glare so angry it could boil a pot of water. They drop me, and Gale wraps me in his arms. "It's going to be okay," he keeps muttering. "It'll be all right, Prim."

I look straight into his eyes. They look like Katniss's eyes. Gray, startling, and wild. I say, as firmly as I can, "I'll make you proud."

"I know you will," Gale says.

I step up on the stage, renewed with a sense of purpose. I can win these Games. And I _will._

The next tribute called up to the stage is someone named Jamie Thorn. He is two years older than me, and I don't know him, but I recognize his expression: suppressed fear. The kind of fear you can only conceal in your posture and your smile. Not in your eyes.

We shake hands. His are cold, ice cold. Mine are hot and clammy. Everything seems eerily normal.

I have now calmed down enough to observe my fellow tribute. His hair is brown-no, not brown. Very, very dirty blond is a better way to describe it. His eyes are steely, blue, and cold. My spine tickles in a not-so-pleasant way when he looks at me, as if he is sucking out my soul. I straighten my posture. I refuse to be intimidated by this puny little kid. Katniss might think I'm a sweet little girl, but something changed. When she left. When I was alone. When I was forced to watch her suffer. I suffered too. I got tough. I learned the hard way what it meant to be weak, and the consequences of it.

And I wouldn't let it happen again.

I countered Jamie's glance with one that Gale had taught me one summer day. "Use your powers for good, not evil," he had said. We laughed.

"But how?" I asked, truly mystified. "How can you scare someone?"

He paused, as if trying to pick his words wisely. "Take the things in life you hate the most-no, not hate. The things that frustrate you, the things that-no matter how hard you try, you just can't achieve." He saw my look of concentration, then laughed and said, "Look, you've already got it down. C'mon, lets gather those herbs you were talking about earlier."

Soon, Jamie's confidence wavered, and I pushed him down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Katniss. The look of horror on her face confirmed my deepest fears. The fears that lay in the arena.

What dangers lay ahead? What dangers could make my sister into the mess she is now? My sister, who was strong so I never had to be? My sister, who held me when I cried. My sister, who, until the Games, I thought could stand anything. What could have torn her to shreds?

I don't care about the Treaty of Treason. In fact no one does, not even the Mayor. The Mayor's voice is like a buzz, droning on and on. I have little time to think, but I do. I think of what awaits me. It is foolish, but I feel inclined to imagine them worse than they are and I will feel spoiled. But I will be ready for it when it comes.

A man in a dark gray suit leads me to the room where I will say goodbye. I notice he has a gun in his holster. "Five minutes," he says. His voice is stern, but I know he sympathizes for me. They all do.

"PRIM!" Gale and Mom burst into the room and smuggle me. Mom rubs her finger in a circular motion around my scalp as Gale talks furiously, fast, and softly. "It will be all right, Prim. You're going to be okay." But it sounds like he is reassuring himself more than me. They sit right next to me as people file in to pay their respects: the baker, the teacher, a handful of people I don't even know. But Gale and Mom stay right next to me, holding my hands and steadying me.

Suddenly, I feel the urge to say something. "If I die..." I swallow. "If I die, you have to promise me you'll take care of Lady and Buttercup, and keep up your work in the apothecary shop, and..." The two of them hush me.

"You're not going to die. Gale and I will make sure of that." A few reassuring smiles come my way, but I can't smile. Not now. I can't cry, either. I am a stone soldier, devoid of all emotion, forgiver of none.

My friends and family are herded out. "Your ride is here," says a man with a sleek suit and a cold voice. I take his hand and board my passage to doom.

**Please review! I just started this, so it might take me a while to write the second chapter...sorry for any hooked readers!**


	2. Chapter 2: A Long Train Ride

**I do not own the Hunger Games, though I wish I did.**

** Chapter 2: A Long Train Ride**

The dark green forest slips out of view quickly. We're out of District 12 within minutes. But I can still see the shock that registered on everyone's face; no one could have imagined a twisted ending like this. My whole life had been turned upside down by the Games, and this was just another run. I sit by the window, gazing at the scenery. Effie, Haymitch, and Peeta talk together in hushed tones. Katniss sits reading a book that must be compelling because she can't take her eyes off of it. Or maybe she can't look me straight in the eye without feeling guilty.

Jamie sulks at the dining room table. Maybe he's not very familiar with disappointment, and he figured the Games were glamorous. It figures. He's obviously not from the Seam. His belly bulges slightly, as if he's going on a "diet". _Now, now, Prim,_ I tell myself, _You're rich too. You're not a Seam girl anymore_. Sometimes I just wish I was. I don't care if we were starving and cold and poor. I just want things to be how they used to, back when Katniss went off in the woods to catch us dinner. We had lost ourselves to find food and gather plants and sell medicine, but now we have all this money and no way to use it.

I glare at Jamie, knowing he has probably never missed a meal in his entire life. He is full of extra fat-he has chubby cheeks, a big nose, and his whole face seems to jiggle a little. He's not overweight. No one in District 12 is. But his stature is just a symbol of his wealth. I eat well. Katniss gets a steady flow of money, now that she's a victor. But I've always been small for my age. I guess I should use that to my advantage.

What is my strategy? I have to wonder. I'm small and fast, but I need to work on my strength. Katniss told me once that in the days leading up to the Games, she would stuff herself to keep some nutrition in. I guess I can do that too. I'll need that. Still, I can gather plenty of herbs for medicine, plus I know a few edible ones. But what I have to work on is how to kill. I've been such a weakling my entire life. Some call it "pure" or "innocent" or sometimes even "cute", but I know what it truly is. Cowardice.

An idea strikes me, then I dismiss the thought. Katniss would never approve. But still, it might be my chance at survival. I'll ask her what she thinks. "Katniss," I say softly. She looks up. "Can we talk? Alone, I mean?" She nods. I don't want Jamie to hear. I'd never make an alliance with him if he was the last person in Panem. Besides, this is a matter I'd like to talk to her about, sister to sister.

We find an empty car near the end of the train. It has sleek steel walls, and leathery seats. We sit down across form one another. "So..." Katniss ventures. "What is it that's so private we had to come all the way down here?" Her mouth curls into a faint smile. I've always admired my older sister for looking so optimistic in the worst of times. But then it fades.

"I have an...idea." I want to go slowly. "I know I'm not the strongest. I'm pretty fast, though." "And you'll get plenty of sponsors."

Katniss grabs my hand. "Go on."

"I think I need to make an alliance. With someone who's strong, someone who can protect me. We both know I might not make it through this alive without someone watching my back." Katniss does not respond to this. "What I'm saying is... I'm saying...I think I should make an alliance with the Careers."

"What?!"

I feared this. Just take it back Prim, say you were joking... No. This is my best chance to survive. "Katniss, just because some Careers are fierce doesn't mean they're all bad." "Or does it?" "Is Finnick that bad? He saved Peeta's life. Just because you had some bad experiences with some of them doesn't mean you can stop them from forming an alliance with me."

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. "They'll double-cross you. You're sure to get a knife in the back with that kind of attitude. You don't know who these people are." She wears a deep grimace.

"I know enough. They're strong and fast and my only chance!" By now we are screaming at each other. "It's my choice, Katniss. Not yours."

"Then why did you bring me here in the first place?" She groans. "Fine. Fine. Just don't come crying when you're betrayed." One more look at my face, and she adds, "I won't tell Jamie. I can tell you don't want an alliance with him." I nod emphatically. I don't want any part of that spoiled little brat. "C'mon, they're about to show the reapings. This is where you can observe your competitors." She heads for the door, but I grab her arm and hold her back.

"I'm really sorry, Katniss." I look down, a bit embarrassed. "I shouldn't have blown up like that."

"Don't worry," Katniss grins. "It happens all the time." Still, she seems lighter after the apology. "Let's go see who you're up against. The reaping is about to start."

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** I hope this was a good chapter! Thanks, my friends, and until next time...**

**May the odds be ever in your favor.**


	3. Chapter 3: The Reaping

**I do not own the Hunger Games!**

**Chapter 3**

**The Reaping**

Our train has a sleek, camouflaged TV screen. I would have never seen it. It is disguised as a wall, but reveals itself to be a television. Wow. We never had anything so extravagant in District 12. I couldn't have dreamed up inventions this cool.

The ceremony begins with the Capitol's symbol flashing and the anthem playing in the background. It flips to a shot of two commentators, as if it is a harmless sport even, at a glass counter. They have a simple routine going, a little easy-going but still hard-pressing conversational tone. They discuss how the Games are going to be this year. "I expect a lot of viewers this year." One of them says. "We've got quite the crowd of tributes." I snort, then quickly shut my mouth because of the dirty look Effie Trinket gives me.

First up is District 1. This is one of the Capitol's favorites because of their production of luxury items. This is one of the wealthiest districts. I'll have to be careful here. These people are well fed, and trained like Careers. There is an excited crowd, and everyone wants to know who will represent their district, who will bring their home glory, in the 76th annual Hunger Games.

District 2 is another one I should keep my eyes open for. These are another of the Capitol's favorites. These tributes will be like well-oiled killing machines. Deadly and unforgiving. I try to keep down my dinner at the prospect of facing these tributes. They make a living by creating weapons, and their children train illegally. The Careers are more than prepared to kill me. A plump woman in a purple dress pulls a slip of paper from the glass ball. "Yttria Vanadim." She is buff, muscular, and her skin is a deep tan. She sounds Swedish. If she's Swedish, she is a wild goat farmer who drinks the blood of coyotes. Yttria is terrifying. And I know that if anyone has the chance to win, it's _her. _How am I expected to defeat these people?

The male tribute is some guy named Jeffrey Dahmer. I recognize the name...then it clicks. He was named after the Milwaukee Cannibal, a man who ate all 17 of his victims. Yeesh. This guy must be tough. But I know, when the time is ripe, I _will _kill him. It is unsettling that I am almost eager for it.

District 3 produces a pair of scrawny, ashen-looking tributes. These two will be no competition. They look a little shocked, unlike the Careers that came before them. They stumble on their way to the stage.

The last Careers are reaped, from District 4. They all have the same build as the other Careers, but their hair is wet, most likely from swimming in their local waters. They control the fishing industry, after all. I make a mental not to underestimate these tributes. They seem pretty easy-going, but they are just as dangerous as the kids from 1 and 2.

One of them is dragged towards the stage, screaming. I didn't see this coming. Peacekeepers lug her onto the stage. _District 4 without a volunteer? _She locks her eyes straight into the lens of the camera, "You people are sick. Just sick." I make a mental note of the dark-haired girl. _Skylar America. _She must know she has no chance of winning these Games.

There's nothing much to watch in District 5's reaping. District 5 provides power. I remember a red-headed girl Katniss nicknamed Foxface. She was extremely clever, and made it to be one of the last five or so tributes. These tributes don't look to bright. They look around, dazed as their names are called, as if to say, _Who...me?_

District 6 isn't anything special either. Their industry is transportation. The only ones I remember are the morphling addicts in the Quarter Quell, and Titus the cannibal. The pair on the screen are some teary-eyed weaklings. Sorry. It might be a bit harsh, but I know these tributes will be no problem for me to take out.

When it comes to the tributes from District 7, I'd better be a bit careful. These people know how to wield an axe-they've most likely been chopping lumber since they were five years old. They look dangerous. I might have to take them out while working with the Careers.

The tributes from 8 are no problem. I could take them out. Their fingers are callused from working in the fabric and textile industries, but that won't do them any good in an arena full of dangerous weapons. This isn't a neighborhood knitting competition, after all.

District 9's reaping includes a big boy who stands out from the rest of the crowd. He pushes his way through the crowd and screeches, "I volunteer!" I nearly jump out of my seat. A volunteer? He pushes a smaller boy out of the way, gently but firmly. He obviously knows and cares for the boy, softly calling him by an inaudible whisper. Suddenly, I have a flashback to two years ago. _One slip. One slip out of thousands. _I catch a glimpse of Katniss's face, and I see she remembers it too. The boy's name is Caius Maidenhair, and I know I want him as an ally.

District 10's tributes, again, are pretty weak. They have thin, bony limbs, and sagging faces. The female tribute though, is a bit different. "Noelle Simon," Ten's escort calls. She struts onto the stage like an overgrown peacock. Is she _excited _for the games?

District 11 has some strong kids, most likely because they've spent most of their lives laboring in fields, wielding a hoe, climbing trees. I'll admit, they have a pretty big advantage. But I'm not too bad a tree-climber, either. I'm not so different than them. The female tribute's name is to muffled to make out, but I notice the male tributes name. "MooCow McFarming." And I thought _Twelve's_ names were weird.

And here comes 12. I see myself, anxious as I watch Effie, watch the commotion as she reads my name, watch Katniss who stares at me as if I am already dead. Because I am, and there's no use denying it. My job is to prolong my death as long as possible. Long enough so everyone back home has enough time to say goodbye. _This is it, _I remind myself. _This is my end._

At least I can enjoy it. I stuff some more chicken into my mouth. _Enjoy it while it lasts. _The Capitol seal flashes, with the anthem playing softly in the background. Haymitch shuts the TV screen off. "Ready to strategize, sweetheart?" He manages a drunken grin, then passes out. Typical Haymitch. Peeta and Katniss smile, as if remembering their Games.

"You don't have to train with just Haymitch," Katniss assures us, "Peeta and I are also your instructors. We'll teach you guys the right way to play these Games, but you'll first have to face the fact that you probably won't make it. Make peace with yourself." Her expression darkens. "If you don't, this trip will be a lot longer than it should be."


	4. Chapter 4: Preparation

**I do not own the Hunger Games!**

**Chapter 4**

**Preparation**

The days leading up to the Games are almost unbearable. I cannot sleep at night, dreaming of the faces I saw at the reaping. Most often I see Yttria standing above me with a knife in her hand. "The alliance is over," she always says. As soon as the agony is about to begin, I wake up again.

I should be sound asleep. I work myself hard every day, lifting weights and putting calluses on my thin, scabbing knuckles. I run, I train, and I eat. I've gained a decent amount of weight, too. I need to be prepared for the Games. I _will _be prepared for the games. I'm already pretty handy with a knife. I could get training from Haymitch and Peeta. Katniss would teach me how to use the bow and arrow.

I'm pretty sure I can make it through the Games. I can survive. Katniss taught me how to hunt all those years ago in the woods. I've been my mother's shadow in the apothecary shop, and by now, I can heal almost any wound. Plus, I can find edible plants. I'm ready for this. It feels like I've been ready for this my entire life. I do have some fierce competition, who are also my allies. Girls that have snapped the heads off of dummies since they were two years old. Boys who can rip your guts out it one swift, clean movement.

But by now I think I'm ready to face them. I might just have a chance of winning these Games with the help of my mentors, the Capitol's hopefully generous sponsors, and a whole lot of luck. I have a few strategies. Katniss told me that the edible plants station, though useless for me, might give me some clues of our arena's whereabouts. I should learn to tie snares and hunt, but mainly I should work on killing.

So far I've used the knife, and a little bit of the bow and arrow, but I want to try throwing spears and fighting with a sword. If there's time I'll try the trident or the axe. But Katniss taught me most survival skills, and I need no improvement in those areas. It's also the mentality of killing someone. I am going to change into a different person, but it's how I'll stay alive.

The train arrived in the station a few days ago. We had entered a lobby so large I almost got lost. We sped up an elevator that went so fast I almost puked, then got out on the top floor. District 12's home for the next week or so. It was full of plush new-age furniture. There were pieces of modern art placed around the room in a unique design. I feel unworthy of the honor of touching it. These things should be wrapped in plastic, so no damage is done to it.

But this is the Capitol, where the loss of any one of these can be made up in someone's weekly paycheck. At home, it would take an extremely rich man with ten years worth of hard-earned money to pay for all of this. Now it lay in front of me. It feels glamorous, fashionable, and luxurious. And unreal.

There's a training room downstairs, the room I'm in right now. I couldn't sleep. My eyes refused to close. _I might as well make some use of my time, _I thought, so I came down to the "rec room". My strength obviously needs some improvement, so I'm working on my arm strength. Right now, I'm furiously attacking a punching bag. I think of all the bad things that have happened to me in the past few months, imagining they are stuffed in the bag and punch harder.

I am startled by a crashing sound. Jamie comes down with a big pouty face. "What is it?" I grunt, not even taking a second glance.

"Will you quiet down? I can't get any sleep." I laugh.

"You really think I care?" I chuckle once more, then return to my training. He steps closer, almost taunting me, as if saying _Try and make me. _"Do you _want _to be a punching bag?" He shrugs. I punch him square in the chest.

"You're... not... sup-posed to..." I shove his jaw. "St-stop it." He mutters. "Please."

I push him out of the way. "No more complaints." My mouth curls into a snarl. "Got it?" He nods humbly, then runs off. Good. Now I've taken care of _that _problem. No need to think about an alliance there, either.

I check my watch, which reads 5:30. I've got a full day ahead to work on my interview, get advice from my mentors, and prepare for the Games. I return to my room and pretend to fall asleep. Only minutes later, Effie walks in with a bright blue dress, wig, and shoes. "Wake up, get ready for a big, big day!" She smiles an artificial smile, just like the artificial glow of the Capitol.

I roll out of bed and jump into the shower. There are bright flashing buttons, urging me to press at least ten of them without realizing what they were. I am sprayed by a nasty lemon-scented spray that gets in my eyes. I flush it out with cold water. I lather my hair with thick foam. Imagine living with things like this at your fingertips! Now I know what went through Katniss's mind when she told me of her disgust of these people.

I dress in a teal T-shirt and sweatpants. I tie my hair back in a ponytail and stretch out my already sore muscles. How am I supposed to become a Career within a few days? My thoughts are interrupted by the strong smell of bacon. The greasy stench wafted upstairs, and my stomach roared like a lion. I flew down the stairs, my eyes meeting Jamie's for a fraction of a second. All I see in them is envy. _Loser._

I stuff the food down my throat. Breakfast has always been my favorite meal. "Pass the ketchup," Peeta says.

"For what?" Katniss asks.

"Eggs." Katniss and I both scowl, which makes Peeta laugh. "You two really are sisters." Our scowls grow even deeper at this, which makes Haymitch and Jamie join in as well. Even Effie manages a pained smile. "But what's wrong with ketchup and eggs?"

"Nothing, nothing..." I say, and we all are giggling now, which is ridiculous considering that next week we will be killed. But often we are the most giddy when we are scared, almost as if we are protecting ourselves from the truth with smiles.

"Time for training." Katniss hugs me. "This is your first impression of the tributes, and the tributes' first impression of you. Swallow your pride. Don't be too showy, but display to the others that you're not worthless. If you want allies, this is the time to make them." Effie pulls us away from the table and leads us to the elevator. I didn't realize it before, but underneath the twelve floors of tributes is floor T, which must stand for the Training Center. I hold my breath until the doors open, and I have a chance to observe my tributes.

And I think to myself, _Is it worth it to keep breathing? _These tributes are enormous, killer beings who can probably list 50 different ways to kill me. We are the last ones to arrive. While Jamie curls over, terrified, I stand a little taller and glare at the others. _Make a good first impression, Prim. _I snarl a little, then sit down in my assigned spot. The Head Trainer finishes her instruction. "Try to go to as many stations as possible. And may the odds be ever in your favor."

As if the odds have ever been in our favor.

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I hope you guys liked this chapter! Please R/R. I appreciate your feedback. You guys are all so awesome!

Okay, so please check out my friend **Emberwind8. **She has a really, really awesome Hunger Games fan fiction, plus a Warriors one and will soon have a Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus fan fiction. If you liked this story so far, you'll love hers. Even if you _don't _like mine you'll love hers.

Thanks again. #HashtagsAreCool


	5. Chapter 5: Training

**I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. HOPEFULLY YOU HAVE REALIZED THIS BY NOW.**

**Chapter 5 **

**Training**

The stations are arranged in a circle around us. There is everything from knife-throwing to edible plants to snares. I think I'll practice some trident wielding, because that's a likely weapon with length and ease in use. It's not something you use once and dispose of. But I'm also going to try the axe, the bludgeon, and the bow and arrow where I can get some extra training from Katniss. Knife-throwing is my strength, but I'd better not reveal that to my competitors.

Most of my competitors stand about a foot above me. They are broad shouldered monsters. The Careers are the most terrifying of all of them. _Be friendly, _I tell myself. I rack my brain. What were their names again? I don't remember the boy from One, but the girl is someone named Rikki. She has lean muscles, and stands almost as tall as the others, despite the fact that she can't be older than 14. Yttria Vanadim, the girl from Two, appears to be the leader of the pack. Her counterpart, Jeffrey Dahmer, looks hungry for human flesh.

I take a step towards them. _Don't be afraid. _"Hey," I say. "That's some good aim you've got." Yttria nods absently, still focused on throwing her spear into a dummy's flesh. This is my chance to show her I'm not so bad, either. I grip onto a fairly small spear. It is light and seems to fit perfectly into my hand. My arm raises, and I thrust it as far away from me as possible. It sticks into the left side of the chest. Wow. I hadn't expected that.

Yttria and her friends stop what they are doing, their eyes drifting from the manikin I just pulverized to me, then back again. Yttria speaks up. "You're not so bad yourself." It seems that, at this moment I have been initiated into the Career's group. They all grin and nod. _You're one of them now, Prim. You'd better start acting like it. _I stand taller with the thought that I am one of them. I am powerful. No one can stop me now.

Next to the spear-throwing station is the trident-throwing station. I shift over there. There are a few different styles of tridents. There is a slick, black one that seems to be full of lead. A bronze one that seems to be hollow looks perfect for me. The only downside is that there won't be as much help from gravity with this one. I shove the trident towards the dummy and it lands almost an inch to the right. I bite my lip, then retrieve it.

The mistake I made was anticipating that the force of gravity would help me. I turn my aim to the left a tad, then launch it. This time it effectively tears him open. Stuffing starts to pour out. I wonder if killing people is this easy. If so, I'll have no problem winning the Games. But I know there are added dangers, because whenever it would get boring, it's the Gamemakers' job to make it... interesting. I guess I'll have to learn to watch my back.

Something catches my eye. A simulator? I eye the Careers, who are too focused on the task at hand to notice me as I creep towards the glass cylinders. Jamie is coming towards them too, so I stand my ground and give him an evil stare. He shrieks and runs, covering his face with his hands. I chuckle. _That's better, _I say to myself, and step into the machine. It must have been expensive, I think, but then scold myself. The Hunger Games are funded by the government. They could buy every tribute a mansion and 15 cars and there wouldn't be a budget problem.

A touchscreen appears before me. There are multiple options: tundra, desert, meadow, forest, volcano... there are pages and pages of arenas to try out. I choose volcano because it sounds the most deadly. This is a test of my skills. If I fail, I don't have a chance with the Careers and I shouldn't even try, but if I succeed...I'm in good shape for the Games.

I select the volcanic terrain, and all of a sudden, the world around me warps into a new reality. I am surrounded by flames, and lava flows at my feet. I gasp, but my oxygen is burning up. I need to move before I am engulfed by the heat. This has to be real. It has to be. Everything around me, the heat that feels like it is searing my eyebrows off, the lack of oxygen, it has to be real or else I'm crazy. A few feet to my left is a sword, and surrounding me is a pack of dogs-mutts, most likely. They snarl, and foam pours from their open mouths.

I am dead. What happens, I wonder briefly, if you die in a simulation? I think it is best not to think that way. So I grit my teeth and slide my way over to the sword, attracting attention from the dogs. I hold up the sword, and brace myself.

I become a hurricane, giving no mercy to the pleading dogs around me. I slice through them, one by one, right before their claws rake my face. It feels like ages, years, maybe centuries before the lava engulfs me and I die. A bright red number flashes before me. 97. This is my score-out of 100? I had expected something more like a 52, at the most.

I walk back to the Careers. "Have you seen those simulators yet?" I ask them. I notice that the girl from Four isn't with them. I'm racking my brain to remember...Skylar America. The girl from a Career district who hated the Games and no one volunteered for. _Wow. _I think. _How much hatred do people from a Career district have for this girl to want her to die more than their own honor? _

Jeffrey answers my question. "We had some back home, in the Training Center there. It was pretty cool-not as elaborate as the ones in the Capitol, though," He says this last remark with a bit of a sharp tone. Does he hate the Capitol, too? Before I can read his face, he asks, "What was your score?" The others watch me, their eyes asking me the same question.

"Ninety-seven," I say. The others blink in disbelief.

"For the first time?" Rikki asks. I nod. The others try to comprehend this apparently extraordinary score, while I ask the rest of them what they got. Jeffrey and Yttria both had around the same score when they tried it, a 90 and a 91. Rikki, I learn, had gotten a 93. And the boy from Four, I couldn't remember his name, had a 90.

"Where are the others from your districts?" I ask.

Rikki shakes her head, disappointed. "Jack refused to join our group. Said he didn't need allies." She puts on a vicious snarl. "I can't wait until I rip his head off."

We train for the rest of the day, learning little things about each other, until our Trainer tells us our time is up. "See you guys tomorrow." I say, then head up the elevator to floor 12. I have a quick dinner in my room, then pass out.

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**Thanks, guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry I can't post very often. I'm kind of a procrastinator, but I will try to post Chapter 6 by next Sunday. Okay. Bye!**

**Oh, and read thebananachick. Her story is totally awesome. And read ILIKETOTALLYROCK. She might be a bit self-centered, but her story's really funny. Please also check out Emberwind8.**


	6. Chapter 6: Individual Sessions

**Chapter 6**

**The Individual Sessions**

_Today is the day, _I think, jolting up in bed. The alarm clock reads 6:30. I'm technically not supposed to wake until 7:00, but I need to get warmed up for my big day. I don't need Effie to remind me how important this is. It shows sponsors what I can or can't do, as well as my competitors. And allies. My score is the final stage of initiation, as my fellow friends tell me. If I get under a nine, I'm not welcome with them. But they might make an exception for me, because I'll get all kinds of , I don't want my survival relying on pity.

I jog over to the Training Center and start to stretch. I am surprised by the arrival of another tribute. "Rikki?" I ask. "What are you doing here?" She smiles.

"Looks like we had the same idea." She says. "Wanted to warm up before the sessions?" I nod. "Great minds think alike, right?" We both laugh. It'll be the hardest to kill Rikki. She's just such a friendly person that you can't help wanting to be friends with her. She's such an easygoing person that-my thoughts are interrupted by a singing sound. "What the...?"

Skylar skips into the room. "Is this the cafeteria? Guess not... hey, who are you? Do you know how hard it is to get around this place? I mean, seriously, how hard is it to put a map somewhere?" She sighs. "Are you just going to sit there or help me? Guess you don't talk much. And you smell like pineapple."

"The cafeteria is down the hall. Why are you going there, anyways? You can just eat in your room, you know."

Skylar snarls. "Well, Miss I Know Everything, you don't have to sneak your nose into everyone else's business." She skips back out.

"That was _weird." _Rikki and I say in unison. Then we laugh. I stop abruptly, thinking how strange it was that Skylar was going to the cafeteria. "You think she's meeting someone? Maybe a plan, or..." my voice trails off.

"Whatever it was, she sure didn't want us to know about it." A shadow passes over us.

"About what?" Yttria asks. "It looks like this is the place to go. I didn't expect that, considering the importance of the date." She seems to be scolding us. But she is smiling, so it must be a joke. Still, you can never be sure with a vicious killer goat farmer. They are a mysterious people, if you know what I mean.

By now, Rikki and I have stretched, so we go for a jog around the indoor track. Yttria joins us. Rikki is clearly the fastest. I'm a little out of shape in running, but I beat Yttria. She mutters that she won't need to run away from weakling tributes. Still, I'm proud of beating someone from Two. Rikki's face is ruddy and has a bit of a glow to it. We return to the stations.

I have planned my strategy already. I discussed it with Katniss the other night. I'm doing a little routine, dabbling from station to station. First, I'll strategically position the dummies so I can pulverize them in an artistic manner. I will show the Gamemakers a variety of skills I've trained the past week or so. And for the grand finale, I'll show them my skill with the knife.

It's time to head back, so I wolf down a breakfast of eggs, bacon, orange juice, rolls, and fresh fruit. I take a quick shower, get changed into a blue shirt and yoga pants. Apparently, Jamie and I have to walk down together. _Really?_ I groan. When we enter, I trip him on his way to his seat. My allies look at me encouragingly. I see Jeffrey has come down. He licks his lips. I wonder what he's doing for his skill-wait, never mind. I really _don't _want to know. Maybe he'll try and kill one of the Gamemakers.

I hold my breath until I hear, "Primrose Everdeen, District 12." I stride in, holding a high posture. The Gamemakers seem a little alarmed as I enter. Maybe they're afraid of me. "Don't worry," I kid, "I'm not going to shoot you." They laugh. Good. I've got my audience in a positive mood. First step: position the targets. I place each mainikin a few feet from each other. Weapons are piled together in a pile at the center. The whole scene resembles the Bloodbath. I stand in the center, ready to take out all 23 other tributes. A gold trident lies at my feet. I thrust it forward, effectively tearing it in half.

Some of the Gamemakers blink. What, had they expected me to be weak? I do a backwards somesault and retrieve it. Then I take out two in one with the trident. _Boy,_ _I'm pretty good at this,_ I think, and I shoot blindly. It flies right between two tributes. Now I pick up the bow and arrow. Katniss helped me during my training, so I'm fairly good. I hit 3 out of 5 tributes on my first try. I wield an iron sword in my right hand. _Showtime. _I think, then swing it around me in a flurry, effectively killing the rest of them.

After about ten minutes, I've killed every single one of them. My breathing is hard, I'm covered in sweat, and I am extremely satisfied. _That ought to have earned me at least a ten. _I'm a killer now! Yay! But the Gamemakers look at me in awe. Maybe they underestimated me. I'm hoping it's not because I completely failed. "You are dismissed," the Head Gamemaker manages with a small voice. I bow and leave.

The other Careers are arranged in a ring around the door. "How'd you do?" Jeffrey asks. I tell him I think I got at least a ten. He laughs. "You? You hardly trained!"

Yttria smirks. "Bet she did better than you, despite that."

"How much do you want to?" Jeffrey says, but his face is bright red.

Later that night, all of us gather around the big screen to see the scores. All of my friends got really good scores. Moo Cow McFarming surprises me with an 11. Wow. I guess I shouldn't underestimate him. District 12's tributes are up next. I breathe harder, my heart beating as fast as a speeding Capitol train.

My face pops up on the television. "Primrose Everdeen," the voice announces. "Ten." I jumped up. I made it in with the Careers! _And _I beat Jeffrey. I can't wait to rub it in his face. Jamie, I find out, got a 5. Wonder what he did to get such a low score. It crosses my mind that it could have been intentional so that we'd underestimate him, kind of like Johanna Mason. Then I remember that he's not smart enough to strategize. _But is that what he wants me to think? _Whatever. I'll just pulverize him in the arena, to be sure.

"Good job everyone," says Peeta. "Tomorrow you'll work on your interviews. Good luck and good night." We all head back to our bedrooms, except for Peeta and Katniss, who seem to be in the midst of an argument. _Let them work it out, it'll all be fine... _So I fell asleep in the dark room far away from home, still glowing with my score. A ten.

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**Hope you guys liked this chapter... sorry that I haven't been posting. I have a really tight schedule, with a sport plus homework, so...just don't expect me to post every day. I try to post once a week, but that is not written in stone. Sorry for the inconvenience, guys.**

**P.S. My friend Emberwind8 has some awesome stories. Check out her Mary Sue Games and submit a tribute while you're at it.**

**So, peace out and all :)**


	7. Chapter 7: The Interviews

**I do not own the Hunger Games!**

**You might notice that I edited the chapter and updated it. I'm sorry for leaving out a bunch of details...I kind of felt lazy. Please read the updated chapter. Thanks!**

**Chapter 7**

**The Interviews**

I'm golden. That's all they'll tell me. Supposedly, I'm going to be perfect. Haymitch even refuses to work on me. "There's nothing to improve upon," he insists, "It would be like a schoolboy trying to explain a lesson to a teacher. Don't worry, the Capitol will love you." At least Katniss is trying to help me.

So far, my strategy is to explain a sob story about my hard life. How Katniss left. How my mother went into depression, and I had to feed her and myself, so I worked extra hard, sacrificed more than anyone could have imagined, and done it all as the same loving girl whose sister volunteered to save her. The same girl the Capitol loved so dearly.

Cinna is my stylist this year, upon request of Katniss. What I don't understand is why the female tribute gets the _male _stylist and the male tribute gets the _female _stylist. I mean, what the heck? If they want us to get naked in front of people, the least they can do is match our genders. But, anyways, Cinna is pretty cool. He designed a beautiful teal dress that doesn't quite reach my legs. I wear pretty blue sandals. It all matches my eyes. I guess that's sort of the point. My hair is going to be in the same braid that my mother taught Katniss's old prep team.

The goal is to make me look adorable, innocent, and pure. If I look too old, the sponsors might think I'm old enough to manage on my own. I already discussed this with my allies. In the beginning, at least, they have to pretend that they took me for the sponsor gifts. In front of the cameras. Because, in reality, I'm as good as they are. For a while we can play at the young-and-harmless card, but sooner or later the Capitol will find out that I excel at the sport of killing.

I need to clear my head a bit, so I head down to the gym. Exercising always seems to help me think. And then I realize the answer to my dilemma. I can't avoid something like that happening. This isn't a friendship camp. This is a battle to the death. We won't be earning as many sponsors by making sugar cookies and sharing them with everyone. We win by spilling blood.

The Capitol is inhumane. Anyone can realize that. They'd enjoy seeing me transform into a vicious killer. So, even though it is inevitable, I'm ready for it. It'll be fun. I try to picture District 12's reaction, but it just hurts my head. _Let them think what they want to think. All I want is to get through this alive. _And I will. I'm almost sure of it. I've proved to myself I can do it. I just need to prove that to the Capitol.

I head back to my room. I review my strategy with myself one more time, then order a steamy plate of roasted chicken with peas and onions. It is a beautiful meal, and I polish it off with a big glass of some kind of tropical juice-mango, I think. I wonder, then, how it must feel to be one of these people. Like Katniss has told me before, these people truly are despicable. Ever since we got rich, we've shared our wealth with the people of District 12. Now we can offer free treatment without fear of starving. We give out extra food, Katniss gives her game to our friends in need, and there's plenty left for us. They are despicable. Truly despicable.

Our mentors bring us in for some last words of advice. Then they hand us over to our prep teams. My team consists of some strangely colored, feathered, and surgically altered Capitol residents. They giggle and clap when they see me. It is as if they are meeting a reality TV show host. "We're going to make you beautiful!" one screeches excitedly. They size up my nude body, which makes me pretty uncomfortable. I mean, can't I just put a robe on?

I grit my teeth as they pull out all of my hair. Yeesh. This makes shaving look like a dream come true. Then they soak me in a bathtub full of a chemical that smells suspiciously like ammonia. After ten minutes or so of bathing in it, I am as smooth as silk, though my skin is tinged pink. My prep team's gossip sounds like white noise, until I hear them squeal about Skylar America. "Yeah, Skylar. She's the one a bit off her rocker, right?" I say.

One of them, Fieria, responds so enthusiastically I almost jump. "You know, I heard from her prep team that they overheard her strategy. She's just playing at the crazy angle so she gets ahead." Then she looks around, as if she could get killed for saying that. Oh, wait! We live in a civilization where that happens all the time! "Just so you know, you didn't hear that. No one said anything." A shadow covers her bright composure for an instant, but then she returns to her peppy self once again.

I wonder, then, if behind all that life of plastic and glamour, there's a fear that _they _might turn into one of the unfortunate that has to be in the Games. But then why would they be so hungry for blood?

So, now I'm ready to go. My fingernails are painted a sparkly teal color, which will match my dress perfectly. My prep team flees the room, and Cinna enters. In his arms he holds my outfit. I place it over my head and pull it down, but it does not reach my knees. "This short?" I ask. He nods. I sigh, but I know that Cinna is one of my best chances to get sponsors. My hair is braided back, and as I look into the mirror, I realize I look no older than I did the day of my first Reaping, the day they took Katniss away. "I love it, Cinna. Thank you."

"You know what to do?" I nod. "Then good luck. I know you can do this. Just...if you have trouble, close your eyes and breathe. Talk directly to Caesar. He knows what he's doing, and his job is to help you out. He'll lighten your load and help you play the angle you want." Our eyes lock.

"Thank you, for...for everything, Cinna." He just smiles and nods. And then I am being pushed out of the room, and then my heart is beating fast.

Before I know it, I am ushered into a car where I will be driven to my interview. But what if they hate me? What if I fall below their expectations? _Be yourself, Prim. That's all they could possibly ask for._ Those were Katniss's last words of advice to me. So, I sit anxiously as everyone else is called up. All of my allies do well, giving off a cocky, strong, and confident aura.

Yttria gives off a tough, burly aura. Instead of a dress like the other girls, she wears a weight lifting suit. It gives the audience the impression that she ignored her stylist and just got back from training. Which she probably did. And she has a signature smirk that looks like she's imagining the death of her fellow tributes. The Capitol loves her.

Moo Cow doesn't say much, just nods and grunts. He must be shy. And then, I realize that his buzzer is ringing and I process the name being called. My name being called. "Primrose Everdeen!" My palms are sweaty so I rub them onto my dress as I push past the crowd and move towards the stage.

"Primrose! Or should I call you Prim?" Caesar gives me a firm handshake.

"Prim is fine." I say simply. Then I give the audience a shy, quiet smile.

"So, Prim. I know this has been a tough one for you. Your sister volunteered for you, thinking you were safe, but you were called up anyways. So...what was going through your mind when this happened?" I know he is giving me a silent cue to use the sympathy card.

"Well, both Katniss and I thought we were safe. She always told me never to use the tessera, not even if we would starve to death. She always told me death by starvation was a whole lot better than entering that arena. After the Games were over, I was so glad she won...I told myself that nothing bad could ever happen to me again. Fate couldn't be so cruel." I gave a heartbreaking sigh, and several audience members sighed with me. "And here I am."

"Yes, here you are." Caesar nods, saddened. "I think everyone here in the Capitol fell in love with you at the Reaping two years ago. Didn't we?" There is a thunderous roar emitted from the crowd. He taps his earpiece. "I'm hearing a rumor...that you have allies?" I nod. _Play it cool._

"Well, Caesar," I explain, "I don't want to spoil it for our viewers, and I'm not really supposed to tell you anything..." I pause, just long enough for a bit of tension, "but you'll be finding out soon enough that I _do _have some allies." Caesar smiles and nods, politely.

"So, Prim, do you think you have a chance of, you know, winning?"

"I..." My voice stops working for a moment. "Maybe, I don't know."

"Oh, do tell!"

"I think...I think I could win this thing, with the help of a lot of people, of course." This is an attempt at a subtle hint to any potential sponsors listening right now.

Then the buzzer rings. "Sadly, our star's time is up. Good luck, Prim!" There is a huge round of applause from the Capitol, and I hurry back to my seat.

Today has been a long day. Not many interviews stand out in my mind, but that must be because I am so drowsy. I can't think along the ride home. It seems the only thing that has kept me awake until this point was adrenaline, and now that rush is gone. I head up to floor 12, enter my room, and pass out.

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**Thanks for reading! I guess you noticed that I posted this chapter a little earlier that expected. Yaaay! So, I'll try to post Chapter 8 by this Sunday, too. Okay. Bye! **

**P.S. Please review...I want some more feedback. Please tell me what you think of my story.**

**P.P.S. You guys are awesome.**


	8. Chapter 8: Getting Ready

**I do not own the Hunger Games!**

**Chapter 8**

**Getting Ready for the Games**

I can feel myself buzzing. I am even more jittery than the first time I tried coffee. Now _that _was one crazy day. Anyways, I can't think straight and my hair must be a mess and my heart is pounding so hard, Katniss has to call my name ten times before I hear her. "Prim! Prim!" I look up suddenly. The jolt in my neck causes a sharp pain. "Prim, are you ready?" Katniss looks scared, although my fear is greater than hers.

"Yeah, yeah," I say absentmindedly, still wolfing down my breakfast. I've just been shoveling food in my mouth for at least an hour. Katniss told me that she always did that, so she had some staying power. I love eggs. For some reason, the ones back home taste like oatmeal mush left out for too long-well, in comparison to the ones here in the Capitol. These eggs have a perfect texture, with a crisp outer layer and a soft inside. It has a cheesy flavor.

Wow. I'm really getting delirious. Thinking about the flavor of eggs here versus at home. I'll have plenty of time to think about food when I'm starving in the arena!

Okay, what if I met my teammates to strategize? _No, not enough time. _Then what will I do? _Talk to Katniss and Peeta about your strategy. Ask them for last pieces of advice. _Hey, what about Haymitch? _He smells weird and is always drunk. _And then? _Try not to get killed. _Wow, thanks. You've been a great help.

The voices in my head can be a little annoying sometimes. But I try to follow his-or is it my?-advice. I ask Katniss and Peeta for any help. They both know a surprising amount about allies, but Peeta is more experienced with Careers. "I was a lot like you, Prim," he says. His intense blue eyes startle me, along with the fact that I am being compared with a baker's son who was thrown into the Games. We are nothing alike. "I was allying with the Careers, too. They're some cool people, actually. Just remember that they are in it to win it. Even if you're best friends, they will stop at nothing to win." He gives a dramatic pause. "Even if it means sacrificing the life of someone they care about."

Katniss gives me some last shots with the bow and arrow, and reviews some basic survival skills. "Now we have to send you off to Cinna."

I head down the glass elevator, greeted by the smiling face of my stylist. "Are you ready, Prim?"

I decide to be honest with him. "No." He smiles.

"That's all right. In fact, it's what your sister said to me. And she won her Games. You'll be fine. You've got sponsors, allies, and strength. You've got a winning chance!" But he cannot convince me that I won't die in the first few days. He tells me, "If you get through the Bloodbath, you're in pretty good shape. Just stay alert at all times. When a lot of tributes are caught off guard, that's when most deaths happen." Pretty good advice, coming from someone who is pampered without the threat of death looming over them. All he's ever done is watched the Games.

_Don't be angry with him, Prim, be mad at the other tributes. Fuel your anger in positive ways, like killing. _

I am clothed in a black sweatshirt with little strings. I decide to cut mine, so no one chokes me with them. It is thick, made of some kind of fabric used by the Capitol's richest citizens. That mean's it's going to get cold. I should make sure we have plenty of wood and a sleeping bag. I also have a pair of black sweatpants and a blue T-shirt. My shoes are a pair of brand new, white sneakers. I should rub these in mud to camouflage them.

"Prim, you'll do great." Cinna smiles one last time as I drink water from the table. Then I step into the ring where the glass cylinder closes on me. I hold my breath and close my eyes. _This is it.  
_

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Sorry that this chapter was so short. I couldn't come up with much. I need more tributes! Please PM me. The Games are about to begin and I have about 10.

Thanks for reading. You guys are awesome!


	9. Chapter 9: The Big Day

**I do not own the Hunger Games!**

**Chapter 9**

**The First Day of the Games**

When my eyes open, I see a field, a bright meadow. It's utterly beautiful. The scent of flowers invades my nostrils. _Focus, Prim. Look at your surroundings. _Around me is a ring of all of the tributes. In the middle is a bright, silver horn filled with supplies. Beautiful supplies! To my left is a row of mountains. This is a good hunting ground. And to my right is a dense forest. From what I can see it's like back home. But I know there are added dangers there.

I eye my fellow tributes. Some of them sniff the air in wonder, no doubt enchanted by the sweetness of it all. Yttria, Rikki, and Jeffrey all have their eyes on some weapons. I follow their lead, looking for a trident, a spear, or a bow and arrow. I spot all three, right in the thick of things. My instinct is to run straight in and straight out, hide in the woods, and pick people off from the trees. But I know that would destroy my alliance and prove that I am weak and cowardly.

"30...29.." I swallow the lump lodged in the back of my throat and position my feet forwards. I will make a few decent kills in the Bloodbath. We have to watch out for MooCow, Skylar (because I just _know_ she has some kind of plan), and a few others. But the Career pack is the most powerful in this arena, and I'm one of them. _There's no reason to be afraid, Prim. You can do this! _But there's a part of my mind that is nagging at me. Is killing wrong? When your own life depends on it? I don't know. But for now, my priority is my life, and the lives of my allies.

"20...19..." Jamie stands a few circles to my right. I give him a chilling glare. I crack my knuckles and flex my biceps to some more tributes. I wasn't expecting my intimidation to work but it does. They all seem to tremble a bit more. Except for MooCow, who catches my eye. His brown, almost black, eyes locked with mine and sent a tremor through me. Wow. That kid gives me the creeps.

"10..9...8...7..." I re-position myself to face my weapons of choice again. "5...4...3...2...1...BANG!" A cannon sounds and I rush off of my plate. I am the first to get to the Cornucopia, but less than a second before some others. I've already grabbed a trident. I launch it at the girl closest to me. Then I grip it again, throw it at my next target. Children are falling like dominoes. But somewhere inside of me, I feel a kind of joy. The wind is rushing past me, it's a beautiful day, and I'm running around, having a good time. Wow. I am such a sick and sadistic person.

Yttria, Rikki, Jeffrey, and I move so that we each cover a side of the Cornucopia. The Cornucopia, of course, is our camp. I resort to a spear to kill another person. Sure, I miss a bunch of times, but that doesn't mean I don't kill a lot of tributes. Soon, we are left alone with the dead bodies. The cannon blasts go off. I count them on my fingers. "I got 8," I say. The others nod in agreement.

Then the hovercrafts come in. I've always been fascinated by them. Their silent movements, their gliding motion. Claws pick up the limp bodies, and I force myself to avert my eyes. Soon, the field has been cleared. All of a sudden I'm extremely grateful that we don't have to wait as those bodies sit and rot. "So, all of us made it through the Bloodbath." Rikki sits down, and the rest of us follow suit. We form a little circle.

"No surprise there," Jeffrey says sarcastically.

Rikki sticks her tongue out at him. "I was just explaining it clearly. Some people here might have trouble understanding our current situation, _Mr. __Dahmer,_" the boy's smug smile dropped.

"Uh...guys, that's really interesting and all, but you might want to see this." Yttria leads us to a patch of grass quietly, and we look to see a young girl, from District 7, I think. She can't be older than 12. We all surround her, trapping her where she trembled.

"What's your name, little girl?" Rikki asks, almost gently, but there is an insistence to her tone.

"M...May," You can hear the fear in her voice. She reminds me of myself. I can't kill her.

"That's a pretty name," I say. I have to play along with the others. I'm pretty sure they want something from her. Otherwise, they'd have already killed her.

"You know, you could be valuable to us. If you gave us some information..." Jeffrey is crouching down now to see her in the eyes. "Maybe we wouldn't hurt you. We could let you go." He smiles, and his teeth are a pale yellow.

She keeps her mouth shut tight and shakes her head. She is stubborn and proud, and I admire her for it. She refuses to get others killed for the sake of her own life. Now that's something I admire so greatly, I feel a huge pain in my chest. I could never kill this little girl. But for the sake of my own life, I must. Or...my allies can. And I know they will torture her for information.

"Let's make it quick," I mutter, and am about to close my eyes before I realize: that would be taken as weakness. Weakness is forbidden in the Career pack. I grit my teeth and watch the girl fall to the ground. There is a flash of light, and two knives are out. I hear screams of terror, panic, and it floods my mind. The next thing I know the girl is face down on the soft earth, blood pouring from her back.

_An unfair death, _It's the first thing that pops into my mind. And I know that in a district not far from here, there is a family in the sitting room. Weeping. They had to have seen it, they must have watched as their little girl died. Maybe they had a hope for her...and I was someone who crushed that hope. They must despise me now. I have lost my innocence. I am no longer a little girl who was afraid. I am the one little girls are afraid of.

We head back to camp. Rikki and I take first watch. "That little girl," is all I can say.

"Yeah. That was pretty...scary. I mean, I entered these Games to win, but I'm just realizing that killing people isn't so easy. My parents always told me I had a soft heart, and I tried to prove them wrong, but they were right. I guess I'm not fit for this sort of thing." She grimaces, as if that's her worst fear.

"But..." I try to pick my words carefully. For all I know, we're on camera right now. "Back in Twelve, well...having a soft heart is a good thing. You don't want to get in the Games, because you'll be disgraced for the rest of your life." I grin a bit. "And, of course, you'd be killed."

"Well, that's not that big a deal in One." I think she's joking until I see her expression. "It doesn't matter if we die or not. We just have to try as hard as we can, and overcome every obstacle, just to win. Winning is the ultimate goal. Even in school, we had gym. It wasn't 'everyone is a winner'. It was 'win or you'll be shamed'. We grew up that way, and it's always been that way. I guess I'm seeing that there's always a loser. That girl, she died unfairly. She didn't choose to die."

We sit in a few moments of silence. The moon shines bright silver. It illuminates the Cornucopia, and I hear the anthem. We wake up Yttria and Jeffrey, and then the faces pop up. The first one to pop up is someone from Six. "Harold." Yttria says. I give her a look. "What? Can't a person know their competition?" I shake my head. I take a breath in, and hold it in an attempt to stop my guilt as I see May's face pop up. Her face seems frozen on the screen. I flash back, and I know this girl will never leave my mind. Suitable punishment for someone who sat back and watched her die.

Before I know it, the Capitol seal pops up, and Yttria and Jeffrey go back to sleep. Rikki and I position ourselves by the fire, but I keep my distance, for the fear of falling asleep. I don't need to be coddled by the warmth of the flames. Still, I wrap my arms around myself and pull my jacket tight.

So...I've made it through the first day. Cinna's advice comforts me. I made it through the Bloodbath. I have a chance. That doesn't mean the rest of these Games will be a walk in the park, but I could survive. I will survive. Gripping tight to my spear, I keep an eye on the vast black landscape, kept awake from the cold, the memory of today's adventure, and the snores of Yttria and Jeffrey.

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**So...the first day of the Games. I am still open to suggestions for tributes. Just PM me with the name of the tribute, and any other info you want me to include. As you should already know, do not submit a tribute mentioned in the story yet. I wish I could give you a list of the tributes that are alive and dead so far, but I don't know most of them...help!**

**Thanks, guys! Please give me feedback. I care what my viewers think, and it would be really great if you could review! Thanks.**


	10. Chapter 10: Day 2 of the Games

**I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. HAVE I NOT MADE THAT CLEAR IN THE PAST NINE CHAPTERS? **

**Chapter 10**

**The Second Day**

I wake from a beautiful dream. I can't quite place my finger on the song, but it started with a choir of angelic voices singing, then a deep voice resonating through the valleys in a gorgeous bass. Though there were no words, it sung of the stars in the sky and clear running streams and how the earth was before humans came along. It ended abruptly,ending with the sound of a cannon.

I sit up, and Yttria, Jeffrey, and Rikki are sitting around the fire, eating something. I brush my hair with my fingers, dust off my clothes, and plop down between Jeffrey and Rikki. "So. Sleeping Beauty awakes." Jeffrey snarls. I think that's his idea of a smile.

"Ah, the sound of yet another moron, truly, is music to my ears. It fills me with a warm assurance there will be plenty of ignorant buffoons around to mow my lawn and cook my burgers after I win these Games." I smirk. _Hm. __Try to counter that. _He doesn't speak, and Rikki hands me a sausage. "Shouldn't we ration? I mean, we only have so much food..."

"Don't worry. We can hunt, and we have sponsors." She smiles. "Enjoy it, it's a beautiful morning." We crack a few more jokes, then discuss our plan for the day.

"Today's not going to be...as interesting...as yesterday was." Yttria's eyes glint. It was a blur at the time, but I'm almost positive it was her and Jeffrey who killed May. Rikki wouldn't do something like that...or would she? I've only known her for a few days. How am I supposed to know? This is all so confusing! I wish Katniss was here. But really, I don't want her to see me like this. She would break down if she knew how I was feeling.

"So...are we going to settle in or hunt down campers?" Jeffrey says.

"Well, I think we should set up camp." I think out loud. "In a lot of previous years, the Career's supplies have been stolen by someone or something." They nod in assent. "Also, we can decide who to kill in what order."

"MooCow is some pretty fierce competition," Rikki speculates. "Did you see him at the Bloodbath?" We all laugh.

"What are you, scared? You're supposed to be a Career. Start acting like it." Her face goes bright red.

We get to work, building a kind of fence. It acts as barbed wire. Somehow, Jeffrey knows how to work with electrical wire. He makes a security system. If you mess up, you're electrocuted. There is one entrance, and he taught us a certain way to get in. It's pretty simple, but it's virtually impossible to enter without it. In fact, it's very clever, and we all congratulate him.

"So. Strategy." I say. This is the best time to talk about who we're going to kill. I climb into the pile. How will we record it? I get an idea. I pull out my knife, then peel a layer of bark from the inside of a tree. Then I crush up some berries to make ink. It's not much, but it will help us. I sharpen a twig and fashion it into a pen. The others raise their eyebrows at it, but don't speak.

_Kill list  
1. Jamie Thorn  
This kill is reserved for PRIM  
2. Thomas Evans (7)  
3. Boy from 8  
4. Girl from 8  
5. Boy from 3  
_

I decide to work on it more later. "You guys want to see it?" I ask, then pass it around. The others nod in assent, crossing out labels here and there and adding the names of the tributes, or nicknames. "I figure we should take out the weakest in the beginning, maybe kill a few strong ones."

By now the sun has set, and there is no need to guard the supplies, but we split to take watch. This time Yttria and I sleep first. It seems only moments after I close my eyes that Rikki and Jeffrey are shaking me to watch the dead in the sky. Only two or three faces shine of the screen pulled by the hovercraft. Tomorrow there will be more, because the Careers are going to pay some visits to their friends in the arena! What fun!

For tonight, I am focused on sleeping well. I will need rest for the rest of these Games. While I can still trust my allies, I should use the advantage of sleep. So, I pass out even before the seal appears, and everything goes dark.

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This is a shorter chapter... did you like it? What do you think? Sorry I haven't posted in a while. School has been busy. Anyways, tell me what you think! Please review!

If you haven't already, read **Emberwind8, ILIKETOTALLYROCK, **and** thebananachick**. Their stories are so awesome!

Thanks again!


	11. Chapter 11: The Third Day

**I do not own the Hunger Games.**

**Chapter 11**

**The Third Day**

**I'm sorry guys...the story has been getting a bit boring. I hope this next chapter will be better.**

The sun is high in the sky, and I am vaguely aware of some kind of danger rapidly approaching. My vision is fuzzy, or is that the early morning haze? I can't tell, but I force myself to focus. Think, Prim. And then I see it: a green gas, most likely toxic. I doubt they would prank us with gaseous food coloring. This has the distinct smell of rotting meat. Poison. My mind is slow, as if drugged. Still I manage to scream, shaking my allies and yelling, "Run!" as loudly as I can. We scramble out of the field. I trip at least twice. Why is the ground so rocky.

I am getting dizzy, but the thought of death fuels me like a high-powered energy drink. My feet scramble forwards, and soon I'm ahead of all of them. I seem to be running for ages before I reach a dry clearing. Within 30 seconds, the rest of the pack has assembled. "What was that?" Yttria is the first of us to speak. We're all still dizzy; in fact the world is still tumbling down and I can barely breathe. Not with the scent of the mist on us.

"I don't know," I say, not only to Yttria and my allies but to Katniss. Maybe she understands what was going on. "Whatever it was, it succeeded in getting us _here." _The others seem to register the meaning of my words.

"You...think this is a trap?" Jeffrey asks stupidly.

"Well, what do you think, Broccoli Head?" Jeffrey patted his dark curls gingerly.

"Don't make fun of my hair," he pouted.

"Will you two SHUT UP?!" Yttria screams at the two. Everyone is silent for a few moments. Then we breaking into another argument.

"When do you think it's safe to go back?" We talk on and on for about an hour before we discover that we're not alone. A small pack surrounds us.

"Hey, losers," says Skylar from Four. Her hair is swept around her shoulder. She wears combat boots, which I have no idea where she got them, plus an army jacket and a bandana. Maybe she has sponsors. Too bad she'll be dead within a few minutes. We ready our weapons. Then another tribute comes out of the brush. An alliance? Usually the Careers are the only ones. Oh, look! It's Jessica, from District Nine. She doesn't have a chance either. Her ego might just crush her anyways. She's a huge jerk and everything.

I feel a strange urge to punch both of them, and I follow up on the thought. Skylar receives a blow to the face, and blood comes from her mouth. Jessica loses her breath because I punched her in the gut. My advantage was surprise, but that's gone now. They didn't expect me to use my fists, did they? Or did they underestimate the sweet little girl from 12?

Jessica grabs a fistful of my hair and rips it out, but Rikki is right behind her and lifts her off the ground. "What have you been eating lately? Bricks?" Then she throws her into the poison fog. Jessica inhales deeply (what an idiot!) and dies after a furious round of coughing.

"Jess!" Skylar screams. Yttria and I lock eyes, and lift her up on both sides. She's very lightweight, though that's probably Yttria holding most of her body. We shove her into her own campfire. She shrieks as her clothes light on fire, and her skin turns bright red, and then black. She is screaming like a maniac until her cannon fires. The hovercraft cannot collect anything but a pile of firewood covered in ashes.

I am dizzy with confusion...is it the toxic gas getting to my head? The confusion that I am killing these people? Or...is it a sick kind of thrill? I fear it is too soon to tell, and I do not want to have to think of myself as a psychopath. And I know that when I get home, I may not be accepted in the Seam, or the rest of District 12. Including the Victor's Village. Oh well, I guess I might not live to see that life.

Wow. That's pretty pathetic. I have to fight for my life when there might not be much to live for. _Shut up, Prim. _Focusing on the problem at hand is my best shot. "So, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted...when do you think it will be safe to go back to the camp?"

"Certainly not now. I think we should set up camp here and stay the night. It's getting dark, and this is our safest bet. Tomorrow we can collect some supplies and go hunting." Yttria speculates.

Our stomachs all growl. I give a hint to sponsors, "If only we weren't so hungry..." At the words, a parachute falls down containing a cauldron of scalding soup, a box of rolls, and an assortment of packaged salads. We all grin greedily and lick our lips. Rikki is the one to divide the food, and she does so fairly. She is surprisingly trustworthy. I don't know why, but there is something about her that says she is a good-natured person.

I have to take watch with Jeffrey tonight. I despise him. We try to make light conversation, but all we can think of is the weather. Then we are silent, and I can feel a huge wall of awkwardness building up.

I watch the sky for faces, and the only ones are Skylar and Jessica. Today was eventful enough, I guess. But the Capitol is still hungry for death.

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So...what do you guys think? Please review! It took me a bit longer to post this one, but final exams are coming up...don't expect me to post as frequently. So yeah.

=)


	12. Chapter 12: A Hunting Trip

**I do not own the Hunger Games!**

**Chapter 12**

**A Hunting Trip**

Today is hunting day. I'm scared in the fact that I am eagerly awaiting the deaths of my fellow tributes. We gather around the Cornucopia, and discuss where we will be hunting. First, of course, we gather some extra food for our packs, I bring a first-aid kit, and we each bring a weapon or two. "Travel light," is the only advice we all agree on. I bring my knife. It is long, with a slight curve, and a smooth gel handle. I also bring a bow and arrows. Jeffrey, whom we have officially started calling "Broccoli", brings a spear and a sword. Rikki brings a trident and a knife, and Yttria brings a club. I don't even remember seeing that in the Cornucopia.

I decide not ask. Some things in this arena are best left unknown. "So...where should we attack?" I ask.

"The mountains are a good idea. We can kill them, then look around for other tributes' camps. That can give us a good idea of the arena and everything."

"But most of them are going to hide in the forest, and Prim can just climb a tree for a view of the arena."

"I vote the forest, because there's some water there. Most of them will stay near a source of water. They're not stupid."

"I seriously question that." Yttria smirks. "Let's have a vote. Forest or mountain?" We decide to hunt in the forest. "Who knows? We could hunt a rabbit or something."

"It's not really important. We might as well conserve our weapons."

So here we go. Into the deep pool of trees. It is dark in there. Maybe the shade will cool us down. We wander through the forest, making sure to clear a path cleanly. Then we'll just follow it back to camp. Easy enough, right? But something's still edging me off. I snap at my friends, and my general mood is cranky.

"Well, look who woke up on the wrong side of bed!" Jeffrey shouts. I punch him in the mouth. Blood pours out, and Yttria, reluctantly, gives him some moss to absorb the red liquid.

"Smear the blood," she advises. "It'll make you look tougher." Then she eyes him up and down. "You need any help you can get, Broccoli Head." He groans. We've been bullying him for the past day. Apparently, he can't take a joke. And that's exactly why we keep doing it.

After about an hour of trekking, we come across a hastily extinguished. I run my hands over it...still hot. "This tribute is still close. Look at the coals." The others nod, and Jeffrey licks his lips hungrily. "Quietly," I whisper. We run across the ground without startling a rabbit. Then we turn the corner, and see a clearing with a boy. He is running as fast as his short legs can carry him. All of a sudden, he looks over his shoulder, and his eyes widen in fear.

"Come here, little boy." Rikki calls out to him. "Thomas, right?" But he keeps running. "Have it your way, Thomas." We sprint towards him. He is lighter than most of us, but his legs are so small. We easily overtake him. Rikki, Jeffrey, Yttria, and I surround him in a U-shape.

"I'm not going out without a fight," he said n a small voice. We all laugh like he's an adorable kid saying he's going to become president. I raise my knife. My heart beats like a racing animal. We inch closer, and Thomas throws his knife into my leg. And it is on fire. My eyes turn red-or so it seems-and my knife lodges itself in his chest at the same time as Rikki's trident. Yttria lobs him on the head, and all I can think is: What a horrible death.

Then I examine my leg. The knife entered about halfway in. _Lucky I brought that first-aid kit. _Why is the world spinning? Rikki steps towards me, and takes the knife out. Ouch. I grunt. _Don't show pain. _We find some wound cream and a cloth bandage. "Don't worry about me," I say, though I know they wouldn't anyways. "Let's move on." But we stop when we see the silver parachute. It contains a box full of pain killers. "My thanks to the people who gave this gift," I say in my best little girl voice.

I swallow a pouch with some water, and put the rest in our first-aid kit. Then we dislodge our weapons from the dead tribute's body. "Let's move on," says Rikki.

We walk on, but no more tributes are to be found. Not today, at least. It is getting dark, and it is Yttria and Rikki's turn to watch tonight. There is only one face that shimmers on the screen above our heads tonight. Only one spectacle that was barely enough for the Capitol. They'll be wanting a lot more blood.

For now I concern myself in falling asleep. The darkness of the night drowns me.

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Thanks for reading. Did you like this chapter? Please please review!  
Sorry I didn't post sooner...I just started my new Percy Jackson fanfic. If you haven't read it, then please do! 


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